I feel a little bit better having said it.
It’s an Animaniacs song. Takes the edge off it, right? I’m writing tonight for me, and I’m not throwing it to social but I am leaving it out there for people to find if they dig, because it’s my prerogative.
It’s been brought to my attention that I’m an angry person these days.I was like, “Nah, I’m not angry. Not most of the time. I’m only angry when there’s something to be angry about” and I dismissed it. But, I just spent some truly, truly quiet isolated time with just myself, no phone, no people, cats, house, radio, lights, power...and I think maybe I am angry. I think there is underlying anger there. And once I thought about it a little more (amazing what true silence and distraction-free zones will do for you, insert DUH WE TOLD YOU SO HERE) I think the only way for me to kinda...break free from it a little is not to keep it to myself anymore.
So. Here’s things I’m mad about. I’ll probably be vague about some and you (whoever you are) will have to deal with it and specific about others. And, while I’m feeling angry still, I”m going to put this caveat here: DO NOT MAKE THIS A BIG DEAL WITH ME. Okay?
If you see this post, and if you are like “woah, maybe she’s really messed up, I should probably butt in with my opinion of how much help she needs/why she’s wrong/you upset me cuz i think you’re talking about me” this is NOT for YOU. I’m not posting names, this isn’t a Mean Girls burn book, and I am not asking for anyone to armchair psychologist me. This is not a reason to call my mother and have a heartfelt talk with her about the horrible mental state of her daughter, and it’s not a reason to treat me differently. I’m putting it “out” here, partially because there’s relative low risk. If I don’t put it on Facebook or Twitter, it’s unlikely anyone who isn’t for some odd reason subscribed will see it, at least til much later, and then it’ll be...better? We hope?
There’s enough “out there” to make it feel like I’m not keeping it inside, with enough “no one is probably reading this” to make me bold enough to put it out there.
And I’m stalling.
I’m mad because....
Because someone hurt my mother, who was EVERYTHING to me. (She is, still, but like, everything WITH my husband, now.)
Because I had a person who at least semi-legally, was my father, who is totally, completely gone from me. And it is not my fault.
I’m mad because I was a secret.
I’m mad because I let myself be a secret.
I’m mad because I was in someone’s fan club when they were truly a best friend of mine.
I’m mad because I stayed in someone’s fan club, supporting them through really damn scary stuff, only for them to just not blink an eye when there was no contact.
I’m mad because I was ALWAYS the person to do alll the freaking contacting for every relationship all the time.
I’m mad because I laughed when people were like “we’d never get together if it wasn’t for you” when I really felt like being like “WHY?”
I’m mad because because I was mad about that, I’ve probably ruined some relationships I wish I wouldn’t have, since I generally just gave up on it, in cases I shouldn’t have. I made some new friends that now feel like missed chances because I just don’t follow up. And it bled into family stuff, and while some of my family doesn’t really reach out to me, I feel like there’s a lot of burden to bear there too.
I’m mad because I didn’t know about some of my more toxic qualities until way later than I should have figured it out, and I don’t know exactly what to do to fix that.
I’m mad because my hairdresser told me since I was 10 how excited for my wedding she was, and how she’d be there and do my hair, and wouldn’t it be great and lovely and wonderful, and what a joy it would be to meet my future husband. He would be so handsome and smart and amazing and it would be so awesome. Then, she ghosted me and my mom, didn’t show up to my shower, didn’t return any phone calls and to this day has more or less acted like I didn’t exist.
I’m mad because all the father figures in my life always went away. And one of the ones that I thought was the best, too, and who supported me through so much of my life, and who said, like the hairdresser, that he couldn’t wait to meet my future husband, and that he and his wife had a song to sing at my wedding, and who called me his daughter, had to work on my wedding day and couldn’t make it. Yeah, the wedding invites went out late, but something about that didn’t sit right with me. Or the people who actually love me. Or the people whose weddings he did show up to, who were skinnier and prettier and oh wait, who I introduced to them.
I’m mad because skinnier, prettier people are always so much more damn popular.
I’m mad that I let people (yes, people) tell me that I should understand why we weren’t together/dating/right for each other because “you’re not exactly a supermodel.”
I’m mad because I know that I still get marginalized because of my pants size by people that I work with or talk to and I know it’s happening but I pretend it isn’t.”
I'm mad because I taught myself I don't matter when I gave away everything I had to people who would just as soon never talk to me until it's convenient for them, and who NEVER gave of themselves what I did to them.
I’m mad because I don’t do enough.
I'm mad because I don't do enough for others now. Family, friends, husband, house. I don't do enough. Work. I could do more. I could do so much more, but i'm so ANGRY.
I’m mad because I still forget things ALL THE TIME.
I’m mad because I made so much effort to get organized and start doing better things for myself, and every time I try something awful happens.
I’m mad every time I lose something and someone in my house/family/friends cirlce laughs like “of course”
I’m mad because, guess what? I have ADHD. I just do.
I’m mad because some people will never believe that.
I’m mad because I have more anxiety now than I ever had.
I’m mad because I don’t now help the people I desperately wanted to help with their anxiety, instead, it just makes me anxious.
I’m mad I didn’t take my mom’s advice or learn from her better how to do chores and clean and run a house, because I’m overwhelmed now.
I’m mad because I am lazy.
I’m mad because I could do better.
I’m mad because I gave away a lot of myself.
I’m mad because I don’t feel like I can like the things I like without someone telling me why the hell I shouldn’t like it.
So here it is, all the stupid stuff I like: I like makeup. I like to wear it, I don’t care if it’s not healthy for my skin, or you don’t like it, you think it’s a waste of money. I like to travel. I like stupid tv shows, like stuff on HGTV, Teen Mom and whatever. Rot your brain or whatnot, sometimes I like that. I like any kind of artistic reality tv show, most of the time. I like taking baths. I like driving, especially alone at night in the summer with the windows down. I like to write. I love Chicago, all of it. I love Chicago so much that I daydream about what it would be like if I’d ever lived there. I love New Mexico, and I know I drove everyone nuts about that one, but the desert felt like a piece of me I didn’t know was missing. I like craft beer. I love photography. I love Doctor Who, and yes, I’ve only seen new Who even though I plan to change that. I love Star Trek. I love every single Marvel movie and I’ve said I didn’t before just to fit in. I just like them, canon or not canon. I like Buffy. I like Splatoon very much, and racing games, and I like Tetris. I like lots of sad solo player walking simulator games I hardly ever get to play. I like dancing games and videos. I used to love doing Darrin’s Dance Grooves and I would love to get my hands on Just Dance and do more Beat Saber, even though it embarasses me that I like it. I like to cook. I love the water. I love to swim, and I think, if anyone would get off my case about why that in particular is how I’d like to work out, that I’d work out a LOT if it was just in a damn pool. I like staying in hotels, even if the hotel is in Gurnee and it’s just for a night. I just like it. I love sushi and Thai food and spicy food.
I’m also mad because people insist i should check out/do/eat what they like, and never do the same for me.
I’m mad because I feel like I’ve tried really hard.
I’m mad because I know I haven’t tried hard enough.
I’m mad because I hurt the people I love.
I’m mad because I can’t stop being mad.
I’m mad because I’ve already ruined so much being mad.
I’m mad because I feel lonely.
I’m mad because I’m scared and stressed and lost sometimes.
I’m mad because I always feel like I’m playing catchup.
I’m mad because I don’t feel like stuff is mine sometimes, even though a lot of it is me not taking something and making it mine.
I’m mad because I feel like I don’t do the things that I want to do or like to do, and I can’t just say that I don’t want to do things or don’t like a thing. I know I should but I don’t or I can’t or I do and it’s later and I’m REALLY mad and then I blow up.
I’m mad that I have such a bad temper sometimes, and that I explode the way I do.
I’m mad that my body hates me, and that PMDD is a real thing, and that I have it.
I’m mad that there is so much terrible injustice in the world right now.
I’m mad that people don't’ treat people like people just because they don’t have a piece of paper that says they were born here.
I’m mad because an idiot is in the White House blowing up the country and people are worshipping him like he’s the Messiah.
I’m mad because a pedophile racist white supremacist narcissist dangerous terrifying uneducated entitled delusional wannabe dictator is in the White House.
I’m VERY angry that people I knew to be kind and good people support him--there is NO GOOD IN HIM.
I’m angry that I was fed lies my whole life.
I’m angry that the “Christian Right” that thinks we’re all being unfair to the aforementioned terror is the same “Christian Right” that shuns girls who break their chastity vows, or gay people, or people who got an earring (My stepfather almost lost his position in a Scouts-esque program because my BROTHER GOT AN EARRING) and drink and listen to *gasp* secular music, let a guy who’s like “Grab ‘em by the pussy, shithole country, send them back” and are like “you guys, God anointed him”
I’m mad when I see teachers who helped me learn kindness grace and dignity post memes on Facebook that show people in hijabs or keffiyeh and talk about how THEY hate America and THEY were responsible for 9/11 and THEY should leave when those teachers were the ones who went to MISSIONARY BANQUETS and talked about how the whole world was full of God’s people who HE LOVED EQUALLY and they’re okay with those people’s KIDS DYING IN CAGES.
I’m mad because I was too scared to post my wedding pictures because I didn’t feel like my body was good enough and now I feel like it’s too late.
I'm mad because whenever I type a thing like this that I really need to type there's a typo I don't catch til later and it makes me feel stupid.
I’m mad because I’m so damn mad.
And …I feel a little better now that I've said this.